


No Place To Hide

by mobius-loop (igy)



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Blasphemy probably, Kissing, M/M, Make Outs, Unresolved Sexual Tension, past Jesse/Tulip references, that should really be a fandom-wide warning going in, yes more of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/igy/pseuds/mobius-loop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s when Cassidy glances up to find Jesse watching him, watching him <i>staring at his mouth,</i> that Cassidy realizes getting shit-faced when he hasn’t had any blood for nearly a week might not have been the brightest idea.</p><p>(Or, a different version of that scene in the church, with less chainsaw fights and more making out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely blame this on every person that left me a nice comment on my other work, and especially Plague over on Tumblr. Thank you for the moral support! (Title from the Jace Everett song, it's very Annville.) All aboard the sin train.

“Hard day at the office, dear? Well come on, dinner’s getting cold!”

Cassidy grins, brandishing the bottle in his hand as Jesse walks up the steps of the little church. The smile on the preacher’s face, sheepish but honest, warms Cassidy more than he’d like to admit. It’s been almost a week since he’d taken up residence in the church attic— the irony of the bats in the belfry joke was not lost on him— and the pair of them continued to get along like a house on fire. It was something Cassidy hadn’t realized he’d been missing, just having a mate to drink and laugh about dumb shit with, but his sudden entry into the small-town soap opera of Annville had come with a welcome reminder, dressed in all black, with impossibly good hair.

“So how’s that air conditioner comin’, Mr. Fix-it?” Jesse snatches the bottle of whiskey, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip as they enter the church doors.

“Ah fuck off, I told you that part won’t get here until tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. Hell, could be you’ve got some Exorcist shite going on and the damn thing won’t ever get fixed. You ever think about that, hm?”

Cassidy flops gracelessly in one of the pews, kicking his feet up on the opposite seat. He reaches for the bottle, flapping his fingers until Jesse hands it back, and takes a long swig.

“I hadn’t entertained the possibility, but the church will take it into consideration.” Jesse smirks, stretching his arms overhead. He looks tired. Cassidy watches him glance to the seat across from him, appraising. “I really should go look over the sermon for Sunday…”

Cassidy tilts the bottle towards him, trying for his best ‘pillar of logic and good decisions’ look. It involves a lot of arched eyebrow. “Come now, are ya’ gonna make me have dinner alone?”

It’s the faintest twitch of laughter on Jesse’s face that heralds victory, long before he sighs and slides onto the pew bench, knee knocking against Cassidy’s long legs.

“The fact that we keep callin’ this dinner might say something about… some psychology bullshit, I don’t know.” Jesse’s laugh is infectious, quiet but warm, like a shot of good alcohol. Cassidy smiles to himself about the metaphor as he pulls out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

“Well as long as it’s a well-rounded meal, I don’t see what’s the harm, aye?” Opening the pack, Cassidy’s face falls. “Ah, Padre, could I trouble you for…”

The click of the lighter draws Cassidy’s gaze upwards. Jesse takes a smug drag from his own cigarette, breathing it out into the fading sunlight slanting through the church windows.

“You went through that whole pack already?”

“Cleaning out that attic is thirsty work, it is!” Cassidy leans forward, grabbing the bottle and plucking the pack of cigarettes out of Jesse’s chest pocket. Jesse makes a noise of protest and Cassidy nudges at him with his sneaker. “Beside, you should think of your voice for Sunday. It might’a worked well for Keith Richards, but you’ve got your pretty face to keep up too.”

Jesse chokes on his cigarette, waving his hand dismissively.

“If I’m Keith Richards, are you Mick Jagger? Matter of fact, you do kinda resemble…”

It’s Cassidy’s turn to choke and sputter as he lights up. “Fuck off! How old do I look to you, seventy? I’ve some good years left in me, I’ll have ya’ know!” Cassidy bristles under Jesse’s suddenly keen stare, obviously trying to guess his age.

“Yeah… God’s honest truth, you don’t look a day over fifty-nine.”

“Eat shit, I ain’t the one tryin’ to pull off that underwear model _haven’t-shaved-in-a-week_  look.”

Jesse bites his lip against the laughter. “I thought you just said my face was pretty!”

Cassidy scoffs and ducks his head. The whiskey they’d been steadily working on was starting to heat up his face. Suddenly anxious that his cheeks are red, Cass takes a long drag off his cigarette and tips his head back to exhale into the dimly lit chapel. It surprises him how quickly he’s feeling drunk, but then again, it has been several days since he’d drank anything thicker and redder than wine.

“Alright, quit taking the piss. Tell me about your day, Padre, did you save any wayward and wicked souls? Were any of them available, d’you know?” He winks theatrically.

Jesse _giggles_ and Cassidy has to bite his tongue to stop himself from commenting.

“Well, Quentin caught me at the diner again, so I had to stop and listen to him talk for an age about absolutely nothin’ of consequence, but I reckon it made him feel better, so…”

Cass keeps his head back, adjusting so he’s slouching more comfortably against the smooth wood of the pew. He lets Jesse’s voice roll over him, calm and deep and just a touch raspy from the tobacco and alcohol. If more preachers were as attractive as he was, Cassidy thought fuzzily, church attendance would skyrocket. He chuckles to himself at the idea. Cass would certainly enjoy listening to the sermons, not heeding a word he was saying, but just hanging on the music of his voice…

He feels himself dozing off, but Cassidy is so relaxed he doesn’t care much.

 

 

*****

 

 

A thump and the sudden warmth of a body beside him jolt him awake a moment later.

“You must’a had a real hard day, partner.” Jesse leans in, prodding Cassidy in the chest with the end of the whiskey bottle. “I didn’t think you were such a lightweight. Did you hear anything I was saying?”

“’Course I did, it was damn riveting.” Pulling himself up a fraction, Cass steals the half-empty bottle and takes a long drink. “I ‘specially liked that bit about you healin’ the blind, and turning all those fish and loaves into ham sandwiches. Bloody brilliant.”

Laughing and shoving at his shoulder, Jesse takes the bottle back before Cassidy can finish it. Tipping it back, Cass can’t help but watch the angle of Jesse’s jaw, the way his throat works as he swallows. Cassidy tries to blame the warmth he feels on the liquor, but he can’t deny what’s right in front of him as Jesse finishes the last of the whiskey and licks his lips.

It’s when Cassidy glances up to find Jesse watching him, watching him _staring at his mouth_ , that Cassidy realizes getting shit-faced when he hasn’t had any blood for nearly a week might not have been the brightest idea.

“Um…”

Jesse helpfully says nothing, just steady holding his gaze. Cassidy becomes aware more and more acutely of how close they’re sitting on the bench, shoulder to shoulder, knees touching.

“You know, Cassidy,” Jesse says quietly. Cass tries very hard not to shiver at the sound of his own name. “Lying's a sin.”

“… What?”

“I can tell you’re lying to yourself. You keep thinking, _‘no, I can’t, he wouldn’t,’_ but I’m here to tell you, you’re wrong.”

“The fuck are you on about, Padre—“

“My name’s Jesse.” Jesse leans in, somehow looming over Cassidy in the darkness. The smell of his aftershave and the whiskey on his breath makes Cassidy’s chest tighten, makes his fingers gripping the butt of his burnt-out cigarette tremble.

“Jesse…”

The preacher crowds into his space. Cassidy can almost feel the brush of lips moving over his own as Jesse whispers, “Now ask me, real nice.”

“Fuck, Jesse. _Please_.”

Jesse hesitates a moment longer. Cassidy's heart hammers in his chest, he thinks this might be what dying feels like. When Jesse finally leans in to kiss him, Cass can feel the smile pressed against his mouth.

They kiss almost too hard, teeth clicking together before they find the rhythm. Turning to angle their faces better, Cassidy chases the taste of sin in Jesse’s mouth, smoke and whiskey and the taste of his tongue. Jesse bites at Cassidy’s lips and Cass _whines_ , embarrassed as soon as the noise leaves him, but too caught up to care. Jesse’s strong hands press over Cassidy’s chest and then he shifts, crawling into Cassidy’s lap, knees shoved into the hard bench on either side of him.

The warmth of Jesse’s thighs pressed tight over him makes everything go loud in Cassidy’s head, the sound of their kissing obscene in the quiet dark of the chapel. They were in a church, for god’s sake, they didn’t even have the decency to go upstairs to the _bedroom_ —

Jesse digs his fingernails in over Cassidy’s collar bone, eliciting another embarrassing noise. Cass pulls away to pant into his neck.

“J-Jesus, I was so wrong, forgive me father—“

“Shut up.” Jesse’s smirk looks dangerous as he shoves a hand over Cassidy’s mouth, thumb slipping halfway in between his open lips. It catches on the edge of Cassidy’s teeth and he licks at it playfully.

“… Better yet, why don’t we see just how wrong you are.”

 

 

*****

 

 

“… Cassidy?”

He jerks awake, suddenly aware of the cigarette burning the ends of his fingers.

“Hah, I thought you were asleep. You really are a lightweight, huh?” Jesse smiles at him across the pew, empty bottle propped against his thigh.

Cassidy swallows hard before he tries to say anything.

“Yeah… I guess so. Sorry Jesse.” He tries not to look directly in the preacher’s eyes as he says it.

“It’s been a long day. Thanks for listening to me anyway, it’s good havin’ you around.” Standing, Jesse stretches and starts towards the stairs at the back of the church. Cassidy takes a deep breath.

“Yeah. Same.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I started [making a Preacher playlist](http://8tracks.com/eyesotherworldly/preacher)... and then this happened...

Jesse Custer wakes up Thursday morning with what may have been the third worst hangover of his life. The dim pre-dawn light filters in through the curtains of his room, illuminating the sheets tossed haphazardly over the bed. Jesse shifts, discovering that he’s in his boxers. It’s a good sign─ if he wasn’t too drunk to take off his clothes, there’s a good chance nothing else is too badly amiss.

Gently rolling over, mindful of the throbbing in his head, Jesse thinks back to the night before. He’d been up late, drinking with Cassidy… That bastard. Jesse should have known better than to drink that much whiskey without eating dinner, but Cassidy had greeted him at the door with a smile and a lovely new bottle, and one thing had led to another.

A thump in the hall outside Jesse’s door catches his attention.

“Mm, Cassidy?” Jesse’s voice is raspy from sleep. For a moment, he hears no other sound.  Just as he starts to think he imagined the noise in the first place, there are soft footsteps coming down the hall.

Cassidy sweeps into the doorway, already fully dressed and holding a glass of water in one hand.

“Top o’ the morning to you, boyo!” Cassidy’s voice rings out in the stillness of the morning. Jesse groans quietly, flipping him off. As Cassidy enters the room, he nudges Jesse’s curtains shut, dimming the morning light to a soft glow.

“Have a wee headache, do you?” The footsteps get louder as Cassidy rounds the side of the bed. Jesse rolls onto his back, shifting higher to meet Cassidy’s toothy grin.

“With all due respect, friend… go fuck yourself.” Jesse eyes the glass of water in Cassidy’s hand.

Cass laughs loudly, making Jesse wince. “I’ll do you one better. Here, take this, you look pitiful.” Cassidy hands Jesse the water and produces two aspirin in his other hand. Jesse accepts them, tossing the pills into his mouth before taking a long sip of water. He feels better almost instantly, the throbbing in his head dulling to a mild ache.

“Ah, see, Nurse Cassidy has another successful patient.” Cassidy’s wide smirk makes Jesse wonder how he manages to be so awake after their night of drinking. Had he even slept at all?

Jesse lays back and closes his eyes. “Well… that’s an image I didn’t need in my head first thing in the morning.”

“Fuck you, Jesse Custer, and here I am trying to do you a kindness. Maybe I should’a pulled those shades open and come in with a marching band, how’d you like that?”

Jesse laughs at the thought.  He hears Cassidy moving away, heading back towards the door of his room. Birds are starting to chirp outside the window. Jesse knows he should get up, but it feels so nice to relax in bed… it's been a long time since Jesse has appreciated the little things like that. Cassidy’s sudden arrival had reminded Jesse of a lot of things he used to enjoy, both good and bad. Jesse feels himself drifting off as he thinks about the past few weeks, about staying up drinking and smoking, laughing more than he had since he’d come back to Annville…

 

 

*****

 

 

“Ah, hey, Jesse?”

The preacher blinks his eyes open slowly a moment later, still heavy with sleep. “Hm?”

“You got any fags left in there? Cigarettes, _sorry._ I’m out, and I was wondering…” Cassidy rounds the door again, smiling his most charming smile.

Jesse groans and rolls over to glance at the nightstand, catching sight of the crumpled pack sitting on top. Cassidy is there in an instant, pulling a slightly bent cigarette out of the box and placing it between his lips. Jesse smiles at him, adding a tally to his mental count of Cigarettes Cassidy Owes Me (12).

“Y’know, Padre…”  Cassidy pauses, lighter halfway to his mouth. “If you’re worried about raising money for the church, you could just let me take some photos of you. Right now, way you look, I can already see it. A calendar of sexy preacher pin-ups! The ladies would go wild.”

Jesse starts to object so quickly that he chokes, sputtering laughter and indignation.

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

“Probably.”

The cigarette continues to sit, unlit, in Cassidy’s mouth. Jesse watches him, watches Cassidy’s eyes moving down his face and over his body, half covered by rumpled sheets. It makes Jesse a little uncomfortable, but also a little… flushed. He can feel the heat rising in his chest, in his cheeks, and he hopes Cass won’t say anything. Jesse’s always blushed easily, and way Cassidy is looking at him is anything but subtle.

Cassidy pulls the cigarette from his lips, licking them briefly. Jesse’s eyes are drawn to the movement. The silence in the room stretches, twisting into something else, and Jesse can feel his pulse start to pick up.

It’s enough to make the dull ache in his head flare for a moment when Cassidy suddenly crawls onto the bed beside him.

“What─ what are you doing?” Jesse tries to shift away, but he’s only just woken up and still moving slow. Cassidy is anything but slow, a mischievous look in his eye as he throws one leg over Jesse’s, effectively pinning him in place under the sheets.

“What kind of nurse would I be if I didn’t give you a proper examination, hm?” Cass leans into Jesse’s space, forcing him back against the pillows to avoid bumping noses.

“Hey, get off!” Jesse squirms, trying desperately to find some humor in the joke and not to focus on the warm weight of Cassidy across his thighs.

“Aye, that’s the idea.” Cass grins in a way that Jesse can only describe as _wicked_. It sends a thrill through him, panic and excitement in equal parts. It’s been so long since Jesse has been this close to anyone. His mind flashes to Tulip, to the way she used to wake him up in bed on lazy weekends, head under the blankets and her mouth─

Jesse gasps, quietly, and looks straight into Cassidy’s eyes. The time for a joke has long passed; now this could only be about something else.

“So how about it?” Cassidy’s breath ghosts over Jesse’s face, a whisper in the quiet of his bedroom.

Jesse swallows, hard, and decides not to listen to the voices clamoring in the back of his head. He tilts his chin up, shifting to press a soft kiss to Cassidy’s lips. Cassidy returns the kiss immediately, his hand coming up to tug gently at Jesse’s hair as they both press back into the pillows.

Jesse gasps again when Cass bites down on his bottom lip, hard enough to sting. The dim light filtering through the curtains is enough to make out the red of Cassidy’s mouth. Turning away to catch his breath, Jesse moans as Cassidy kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking at the warm skin.

“C-Cassidy? _Ah_ , Cass─” Jesse frees a hand from the sheets to clutch at Cassidy’s shoulder, nails catching on the fabric of his shirt.

“Hush.” Reaching Jesse’s chest, Cassidy licks a long stripe over a faded scar. Jesse can’t help but roll his hips, seeking friction, blood pumping loud in his ears. When Cass pushes back down against him, Jesse bites back a curse. He can feel the rough denim of Cassidy’s jeans through the sheets, so close, but not nearly close enough.

Jesse pulls at Cassidy’s shirt, trying to drag it up without success.

“C’mon, take this off…”

Cassidy looks up from the marks he was sucking onto Jesse’s shoulder.

“I told ya’, hush.”

Jesse frowns in confusion. “Why?”

Cassidy sighs and leans down to press one more kiss to his chest, teeth scraping briefly over his skin. “Because, you lovely, contrary ass, you’ll wake up.”

 

*****

 

Jesse flinches awake, grabbing at the sheets wrapped around him. He was still in bed. The light that was peeking in past his curtains was much brighter, meaning he must have been there for a while… 

Meaning all of _that_ was... just a dream.

Biting his lip, Jesse tries to calm his breathing and does his level best to ignore how hard he is. It was just a dream, the kind he didn’t have very often, but it did happen on occasion. His dreams usually don’t involve his close male friends, but that was a fact to examine later, or possibly never. Sighing, Jesse rubs a hand over his face and sits up, listening for any noise from the hallway. Cassidy tended to sleep most of the day, and for once, Jesse was glad he wouldn’t have to face him until that night. It would give him some time to think about things. And buy another bottle of whiskey.

**Author's Note:**

> Lord, bless this mess. None of this would have happened without y'all's encouragement. Come find me on Tumblr if you want to scream about Team Blood on the Church Floor (that's a good ship name, right)? Thank you for reading!


End file.
